“Teenagers.” Moonbeam sighed plaintively. “I don't understand why I have so much trouble… Well, never mind. I haven't been much help to you so far, Tori. I know you're trying to find out why Macmillan was killed, but I am sure my sweet father-in-law had nothing to do with it.”
“You seem very close to your father-in-law even though you're divorced,” I remarked. “That's kind of unusual.”
“Dad's a wonderful man,” Moonbeam said, spearing a piece of pepperoni from the pizza. “I don't know how he raised such a dumb-ass son.”
“Where is your ex living?” I asked.
“About six blocks from here. He teaches math and coaches football at Gettysburg High School. Had a midlife crisis which only a former, much younger, student could help him through.”
“Oooh. Nasty stuff. Sorry to have brought it up.”
“Don't feel bad. I'm better off without him. And he does make a point of seeing Tamsin regularly.”
“I'm not sorry to see him gone,” Gloria said. It was the first comment she'd made since we sat down to eat, and it caught me by surprise.
“Who? Moonbeam's husband?”
“No, Mack Macmillan.”
“Did you know Mack?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. After his retirement, he became a lobbyist for the Pennsylvania dog breeding industry.”
“For years I've tried to get a law passed in Harris-burg outlawing puppy mills. I've testified at the state capitol a dozen times, but it never got anywhere because of him.”
“What's wrong with selling dogs?” I asked. “Isn't dog breeding a legitimate business?”
She shuddered. “Sure, if it's done humanely. But many farms here in Pennsylvania, especially ones in rural areas, are puppy mills where hundreds of dogs are penned up under the worst conditions imaginable. The bitches are bred immediately after having a litter, so they never get a chance to get their strength back. The puppies are shipped off to pet stores before they should leave their mothers. They're often sick or have congenital defects and need to be destroyed. It's just awful. The poor things live their whole lives packed together like… like animals.”
“They are animals,” Moonbeam pointed out.
“No creature of God should live that kind of life.”
“You're telling me Macmillan supported this?”
“He certainly did. No big surprise, considering he raised puppies at his own farm. Dogs can bring in big bucks, if you've got enough of them to exploit.”
“I thought he owned a horse farm,” I said.
“True. But that's his wife's pet project. I think the puppy sales support the horses.”
This conversation reminded me of the sad little white dogs I'd seen at the Amish farm. “Do you have any authority over the area west of Lickin Creek?”
“I do. Why do you ask?”
“There's a farm out there. The Hostettler place. They've got some dogs penned up there under disgusting conditions. You probably should take a look.”
Gloria helped herself to another slice of pizza. “I'll check it out,” she said.
“As long as we're speaking ill of the dead,” Moonbeam said, “I might as well tell you I didn't like him much either. He started coming into the shop last summer, and was always rude to us, especially to Phoebe.”
“Can't say I blame him for that,” Gloria said. “She asks for it. But you never said anything about him being a customer. How come?”
“Because, even though there are no formal rules about patient-healer privilege in holistic medicine, I didn't think I should mention it.”
“Are you saying that Macmillan was a client of yours?” I had trouble picturing the dignified congressman in her shop.
“Since last summer. He came in for the first time about a month after his wife's accident. She was still in the hospital.” Moonbeam paused for emphasis. “He bought powdered rhinoceros horn!”
“Moonbeam! You don't sell that stuff, do you? You know rhinos are an endangered species!” Gloria was so indignant, she spluttered a piece of pepperoni halfway across the table.
“Don't look at me that way, Gloria. It's synthetic. I get it from China.”
“How can you be sure…?”
I broke into their argument, hoping to get us back on the subject. “Isn't rhino horn supposed to be an aphrodisiac?”
Moonbeam looked as pleased as a teacher whose students had finally grasped long division. “Exactly, and his wife was still in the hospital.”
“Maybe he was looking forward to her return,” I suggested.
“Not on your life, Tori,” Moonbeam said. “While she was in the medical center, he was running around with a topless dancer from the Brick Shed House. My guess is she wanted more from him than companionship. That's why he came to see me.”
“What's the Brick Shed House?” I asked.
“An adult toy store. I'm surprised you haven't noticed it on the road between here and Lickin Creek. It's set back from the road behind a stockade fence.”
Gloria snickered. “The guys think nobody can see them go in if they park behind the fence.”
“Do you know the name of the dancer he was seeing?”
“Lillie White.” Moonbeam giggled. “Isn't that a hoot of a name for a topless dancer?” She changed the subject. “At Dreamgate you asked me some questions about Woody. I guess I should tell you we're very close. Very close, if you understand what I mean.”
I didn't want to tell her he'd made a pass at me, and I didn't have to because Gloria broke in. “He's an S.O.B., Moonbeam, and you know it. He'll go after anything that wears a skirt. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, he's using you-for you know what.”
Moonbeam turned to her boarder with fury in her eyes. “And I've told you a thousand times I don't want to hear any more negative comments about Woody. You don't know him the way I do.”
“I hear he took Leslie Schmalberger to the dance at the high school last week. Rumor has it they did a very sexy tango.”
Moonbeam's lower lip quivered, but she still stood up to her housemate. “Woody and I had a few problems to work out. We decided to date other people for a while. But we're going to get back together. I'm sure of it.”
“So… who have you dated?”
“That's mean-spirited, Gloria. You know I haven't gone out with anybody.”
The silent air over the table was charged with electricity.
How could someone like Moonbeam, who was obviously well educated and even attractive in an oddball sort of way, be so blind when it came to her choice in men? My best friend, Alice-Ann, was the same way. For once, I was proud of being sensible, even felt a little virtuous, for having picked someone as steady as Garnet.
From the living room, Tamsin called, “Mom! I forgot chorus practice is tonight. You've got to take me. Right now.”
As Moonbeam grimaced, I shoved a kitten off my lap and reached for my bag. “I have to go too. Thanks for dinner, Moonbeam. And for all the information.”
“I'm sorry I couldn't tell you more about my father-in-law. He teaches on Friday mornings, so you can catch him at the college.”
On my way across the mountain, I noticed the Brick Shed House for the first time. It was a large concrete building, not brick, I noted with amusement. On top was a large sign, red letters on a yellow background, that said ADULT BOOKS, TOYS, AND VIDEOS. Smaller signs, nailed to the stockade fence, said OPEN 24 HOURS, LIVE NUDE DANCERS, and TRUCK PARKING IN BACK.
Since I was here, it seemed like a good idea to go in and ask Lillie White about her relationship with the former congressman, but when I pulled into the gravel parking lot I saw half a dozen cars parked with their backs to the fence to hide their license plates from view, and lost my nerve. I'd come another day when there were no customers to see me.
For a few hours, while I'd been with Moonbeam, I hadn't given any thought to tomorrow's surgical procedure. But now, in the car, driving back to Lickin Creek, worry and fear of the unknown overwhelmed me. With my head swimming and my eyes brimming with tears of self-pity, I barely noticed I'd passed the turnoff to the borough. I kept driving, past one farm after another, until I came to a boarded-up peach stand. There, I turned right and continued on until I saw the black mailbox with the name Hostettler in white letters.